"We can only appreciate the miracle of a sunrise if we have waited in darkness". unknown
I took this picture today of my springer spaniel Annie. JEJ tells me this is her waiting position each day close to the time I am to arrive home. He says she will wait and wait in that same spot. From this window she can see the driveway and hear my car. Of course, I have reminded him that she does exactly the same thing when he is gone. She is just a waiting dog. She doesn't show favortism.
As I read other blogs today her picture and the quote above had me thinking about the word waiting. Some blogger friends are waiting for trees to bloom, seeds to sprout, and bulbs to emerge. Others are waiting for snow to leave, soil to warm, the sun to come out. A week ago at Colors of the Garden Kerri showed beautiful pictures of crocuses blooming that she had taken with her new camera. Today she showed the same crocuses surrounded by snow. I was waiting to enjoy the sunshine and work outdoors today. It was pouring down rain most of the day. We cleaned the garage, which later we did admit was a good thing, but how we missed being outdoors.
One of the beauties of being a passionate gardener is waiting. The rhythm of gardening is one thing we cannot control in our lives. We wait for good weather, we wait for roses to bloom, we wait for leaves to turn in the fall. Gardening teaches us to be patient. It also teaches us to be observant. It allows us to let go. I am waiting for the crab apple to bloom, and still waiting for a sunny day. Maybe Annie has never been waiting for me to return home, but is observing her own world and waiting for the lilac to bloom or the special dogwood to bud out.
As natural events unfold in my gardening beds, I will wait once again for daily changes and surprises. There is a rhythm to the gardening life- we just have to wait to find out what will happen next.
I took this picture today of my springer spaniel Annie. JEJ tells me this is her waiting position each day close to the time I am to arrive home. He says she will wait and wait in that same spot. From this window she can see the driveway and hear my car. Of course, I have reminded him that she does exactly the same thing when he is gone. She is just a waiting dog. She doesn't show favortism.
As I read other blogs today her picture and the quote above had me thinking about the word waiting. Some blogger friends are waiting for trees to bloom, seeds to sprout, and bulbs to emerge. Others are waiting for snow to leave, soil to warm, the sun to come out. A week ago at Colors of the Garden Kerri showed beautiful pictures of crocuses blooming that she had taken with her new camera. Today she showed the same crocuses surrounded by snow. I was waiting to enjoy the sunshine and work outdoors today. It was pouring down rain most of the day. We cleaned the garage, which later we did admit was a good thing, but how we missed being outdoors.
One of the beauties of being a passionate gardener is waiting. The rhythm of gardening is one thing we cannot control in our lives. We wait for good weather, we wait for roses to bloom, we wait for leaves to turn in the fall. Gardening teaches us to be patient. It also teaches us to be observant. It allows us to let go. I am waiting for the crab apple to bloom, and still waiting for a sunny day. Maybe Annie has never been waiting for me to return home, but is observing her own world and waiting for the lilac to bloom or the special dogwood to bud out.
As natural events unfold in my gardening beds, I will wait once again for daily changes and surprises. There is a rhythm to the gardening life- we just have to wait to find out what will happen next.
Comments
Post a Comment
I always enjoy reading comments!